Sunday, December 20, 2009

GRAPEFRUIT GRIPES

With the angst of the economy, Afghanistan and all the social injustice that surrounds us, if you’re not in the mood to hear about trivial petty problems, do not read any further. Yes, I am going to write about something so petty that some readers won’t be able to stand it. But for those of you in the mood to read about mundane tasks, this one’s for you. I am going to talk about cutting grapefruit. I don’t like to cut grapefruit or any fruit. It’s an inconvenience. I dread it. Hence, this frustration could have an impact on my eating habits of fruit vs. bad sinful cookies for dessert. Does this make me sound lazy? Sure. I won’t deny that. Fruit is good for you, especially a grapefruit at breakfast time, which I will mostly focus on for this blog. I love to be in a cafeteria and collect already precut grapefruit with a maraschino cherry on top. Mmmm! But when I wake up, alone in my apartment, that lone grapefruit in my fridge sitting for days calls to me, feeding into my guilt. If I only had to cut the grapefruit in half, hey, no problem. But this is a fruit that needs elaborate cutting . Cutting it in half in my teeny weenie kitchen, I experience the first aggravation as juice spills out onto the counter. The next step, cutting around the outer edge of the pulp. In order to spoon the wedges, you must cut around each triangle of pulp. This is the nastiest part. I am no fan of handling sharp knives. I had to cut a persimmon once and had an accident. It’s real dangerous holding those little pieces that the knife slit across my finger. Right then, I vowed that I would do whatever it takes to find someone to cut my fruit for me. If I never had to cut fruit again, I’d be eating it five times as much as I do now. Not all grocery stores have pre-cut grapefruit and if so, it costs more money. The labor of cutting makes a difference. After my knife accident with the persimmon I said to myself, “If I ever get rich, I will hire a maid to cut all my fruit. Especially grapefruit. And I always want that jolly rewarding maraschino cherry on top!” For the time being, let Mommy do it!

Sunday, December 13, 2009

FALLING LEAVES IN DECEMBER



Photo taken Dec. 1, Richmond, California

This photo reminds me of the times when I used to go trick or treating. I would kick up all the leaves that had fallen on the ground just like you see in this picture. Most of the leaves make it to the ground by the end of October. In the Northeast, that is. However, in the San Francisco Bay Area it is a different story. Aside from its other unique features such as micro-climates and geeks galore, is its unique fall season. We are not exactly like Southern California where the trees stay green all year round. In Northern California not all the deciduous trees bare during the winter like they do in the Northeastern United States. The Bay Area, in addition to other parts of central and northern California has half and half. Half of the leaves stay on the trees (such as citrus) and the other half change. They don't really turn color until the month of November. And by December, half of the leaves are on the ground. It's December 13th and colored leaves are still hanging on the trees, but are falling every minute. I know that because some of them like to creep into my apartment through the door, especially on rainy days making my entryway all messy. Of course, people living in the real cold states reading this would like to wring my neck. I can feel for them since I grew up in such harsh winter conditions in New York. Now that I look at our long late California autumn, I no longer get a weird feeling about it. I was so intrigued by it in the past because California winter is really like a very long autumn. After 12 years living in California it's a scene like any other season that becomes normal to my eyes. It no longer phases me. I adjusted to it as the norm. I have reached that stage when seeing palm trees also. It took a long time, but now, the sight of them is normal to me. When I visit family in New York, it feels weird when I don't see palm trees. It's definitely a habitat thing. I'd like to know how all of you from the North would feel seeing a late autumn? Or green leaves remaining on the trees all through January?